


let's run away (don't ever look back)

by RedShiloh



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: College AU, M/M, au where they're not related, break up fic, make up fic, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:17:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShiloh/pseuds/RedShiloh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Kíli had a choice of where he could be, he would literally choose anywhere else but here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's run away (don't ever look back)

**Author's Note:**

> So you know the Glee cover of Teenage Dream? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PX2_9LNa2E) I've been listening to that obsessively for days now. I don't even watch Glee, it's becoming a real problem. I have no idea what's actually going on in that scene but I started imagining it replayed with my OTPs and then this fic happened.

It was bitterly cold outside the bar, which was doing little in the way of convincing Kíli that this was a good idea. He really didn’t want to be here. Like if he had a choice of where he could be, he would literally choose anywhere else but here.

He took a drag on his cigarette and leant back against the wall, wedging his free hand under his opposite armpit for warmth. A couple were lingering next to him, giggling and exchanging sweet nothings as they shared a cigarette.

Kíli rolled his eyes and scoffed, perhaps a little too loudly as the couple shot him a dirty look and drifted away to the other side of the courtyard. Kíli was too grouchy to feel any kind of remorse. He was tired of romance, tired of all the couples and their starry eyes and hopes for the future. If anything they were the ones being rude, not him.

The thing was, Kíli was actually supposed to be on a date. Kind of. A blind date. Bofur had twisted his arm into agreeing on the pretence that Kíli had been spending far too much time moping around the apartment in his boxers and eating cereal out of the box. It was starting to get sad… and a little creepy.

So Kíli had agreed to it, if just to get Bofur off his back. He had agreed only on the condition that they go as a double date rather than solo. That way he wasn’t left trying to make small talk happen, because right now he wasn’t feeling much of a conversationalist. At all.

So Bofur had dragged Bilbo along. They weren’t actually together, but they were friends, and they seemed to be getting a kick out of pretending they were dating. It worked out because the two of them were doing a brilliant job of filling in the awkward silences with their ‘loving couple’ bickering which meant that Kíli didn’t have to say much at all to his ‘date’.

He felt a little guilty. His date was alright… if you liked the ‘wearing cardigans whilst baking cupcakes and reciting Keats’ type. His name was Lindir and he was on Bilbo’s geography course. He was quiet and sweet and smiled at Kíli in that bashful way that meant that he was obviously interested. Lindir was nice, but he just wasn’t right.

_He just wasn’t Fíli_ , an annoying little voice whispered in the back of his head. It was the same voice he’d been trying to ignore for weeks now.

Kíli took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked it to the ground, grinding it out with the sole of his shoe. He was about to turn back into the bar when he saw someone approaching that made his heart stop and his stomach lurch.

It was him. Fíli. Of course it was Fíli, what was that old saying again about speaking of the devil?

Well the devil had certainly appeared alright, in the guise of blond hair pulled back into a messy bun and a plaid green shirt rolled up at the elbows. Fíli looked good, effortlessly cool, effortlessly hot, all tan skin and blue eyes and a crooked smile. There had been a time when that smile had made Kíli’s stomach do flips. Now he just found it aggravating.

Fíli hadn’t seen him yet. Kíli considered ducking his head down and slipping back into the bar unnoticed. He also considered being the bigger person and greeting Fíli. He couldn’t decide on which to do so in the end he just stood there like a gormless statue, watching Fíli.

Fíli was carrying a guitar case adorned with peeling stickers and band night flyers. Obviously he was on his way to a gig. Kíli hoped beyond hope that he was just passing by on his way somewhere else.

Unfortunately his hopes were in vain as Fíli turned to walk up the path towards the bar. His hopes were further dashed when instead of using the main entrance like any other normal person would; Fíli jumped the barrier into the smoker’s courtyard to use the side entrance. This meant that Kíli was going to have to say something. There was no way Fíli wasn’t going to notice him.

“Hey,” Kíli said with forced cheer when Fíli was almost on top of him. Fíli looked up, startled. Kíli felt some satisfaction when the same chaotic range of emotions he’d felt seemed to play over Fíli’s expression.

“Hey,” Fíli replied after a brief, tongue tied moment. “Wow, this is… how are you?”

It was one of those things. Neither really cared how the other was doing. Or they did… but on a level that went further than just small talk. Their history was… immense. There was a lifetime between them, they’d experienced it all, the full array of emotions and now all that was left was raw pain. It was hard to act neutral when you knew what someone looked like when they came.

But how could you even approach something like that? How could you attempt to put into words the wealth of emotion that came with seeing someone who used to be your everything and feeling like they’re just another stranger now? You couldn’t, not really. So even though they were both so painfully aware of how horrible it was, they stuck to the script.

“I’m great,” Kíli said, and then because he’d put too much emphasis into it and needed to back it up, and also because a nasty cruel side of him wanted to see Fíli hurt at least just a little he added, “I’m on a date.”

It worked. A wounded look flashed over Fíli’s face before he glanced down at his feet. He was wearing his pair of battered green converse. Kíli had a matching pair in red back in his closet.

“Oh,” Fíli said.

That was when the guilt set in. Kíli had wanted to show Fíli that he was moving on, he’d wanted a chance to see Fíli ruffled, maybe chip away at those damned walls he always had erected. But now that he had, he hated himself a little bit for it.

“It’s a blind date. Bofur made me go on it, you know how he is. I’m kind of not feeling it at all actually.”

“Kíli,” Fíli says, hefting his guitar case higher. “It’s fine you don’t have to make excuses. You can do that kind of thing now.”

Now that they weren’t together anymore.

That stung. Kíli supposed he deserved it.

“Yeah.” Kíli gave a weak smile. He watched Fíli shift from foot to foot and glance at the door, obviously uncomfortable. “How’re you doing?”

“Oh you know.” Fíli gestured to his guitar case. “Keep on swimming.”

“Are you actually playing tonight?”

“That’s the idea. It’s open mic night so…”

“That’s great. I mean really, that’s great! I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you play.” Kíli stopped. “I mean is this a new thing or…?”

“No it’s… actually the first time in a long while.” Fíli said with a shrug. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“You’ll be great, you’re an amazing singer.”

“I don’t know. I might just _not_ do it and get drunk instead you know?”

“No you should play. I was always so worried about you whenever you stopped.”

“You mentioned,” Fíli said, looking down at the ground between them. Kíli hesitated. It had started to feel so familiar between them so easily, the past coming back and surrounding them like a warm glove. He felt suddenly thrown.

 “Anyway you should definitely play,” he said quietly.

Fíli glanced up at him and his blue eyes were soft, vulnerable. Vulnerability was something Fíli rarely let show. In some ways Kíli felt like it was a strange privilege that he got the chance to see it. Although it mostly just made Kíli want to bundle Fíli up in a blanket and hide him away where nothing bad could ever happen to him.

Which was not a feeling he should be having regarding his ex. Especially not when he was supposed to be on a date with someone else. He cleared his throat and nodded towards the door.

“I should get going before they think I’ve run off. You coming in?” he asked and Fíli nodded, following Kíli inside.

 

* * *

 

When they stepped back into the bar, Fíli split up from Kíli, heading to a table in the corner by the stage. Kíli could see the back of Ori’s head waiting for him; he hadn’t even noticed Ori had been there. Ori had a talent for hiding in the shadows and going unnoticed.

That in itself felt weird.

Not too long ago, Fíli would have been coming to sit at their table, as would Ori. They had all been friends once, but now it seemed that the break up meant splitting everything down the middle. Fíli got Ori out of ‘the divorce’ and Kíli got Bofur and Bilbo, who were kind of a two in one deal.

He swallowed down the pain and strange sense of loss that flared up with watching Fili leave and wandered back to the table, taking his seat next to Lindir.

“Hi,” Lindir said, giving him a small smile that was equal parts caring and tentatively curious. “Did you have a good smoke?”

“You took your sweet time,” Bofur said. “What, did you get lost out there?”

“Yeah,” Kíli said to Lindir, ignoring Bofur entirely. He glanced around the table at everyone’s pints, they were due another round. “Bofur give me a hand at the bar?”

Bofur followed him as they wound their way through the crowds until they were at the front of the bar. As they leant against the grimy surface, Kíli glanced over his shoulder to the corner table. Fíli sat facing them so he glanced away quickly before he was caught.

“Fíli’s here,” he said.

“Fuck.” Bofur looked around sharply. “Where?”

“Corner table.”

Bofur craned his neck to peer over Kíli. Cringing at the lack of subtlety, Kíli tugged at Bofur’s elbow until he stopped.

“Are you ok?” Bofur asked.

“Yeah… Yeah sure, it’s fine.” He smiled. “It’s fine!”

Bofur looked unconvinced. He glanced to their table where Lindir and Bilbo sat. Lindir caught Bofur looking and smiled at him and Bofur kind of grimaced in return.

“This is really shitty timing. What’s he even doing here?”

Kil shrugged. “Open mic night.”

“He’s playing?”

Kíli nodded.

“Shit… I didn’t think he played since… well, you know.”

“Me neither,” said Kíli. “But apparently he does now.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.”  Kíli rubbed at his forehead, and closed his eyes feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. He really, really wished he hadn’t decided to come out tonight. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

Bofur dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Well we’re here now. He’s keeping to himself over there. Why don’t we just get another round here and then see how we feel after?” Bofur shrugged. “Maybe this is a good thing… I mean nothing builds up immunity like exposure.”

Kíli sighed. Phrasing it like that made it sound like Fíli was a disease, something contagious that he needed to be inoculated against. In a way he supposed it was true. He could already feel Fíli seeping back into his pores, filling that hollow part inside himself that he had almost convinced himself didn’t exist anymore.

He needed to remind himself why they’d broken up in the first place. It had been for a good reason hadn’t it? He needed to remember that.

 

* * *

 

One more pint turned to three pints and by then, Kíli was beginning to feel more than a little drunk. He’d been going through them quickly, a direct result of his nerves and the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from continually glancing over to Fíli’s table. Every now and then, his eyes would meet Fíli’s and he’d look away quickly, heart speeding up in a way that he couldn’t decide if it was exciting or nauseating.

He tried to focus on Lindir. He made a point of listening to his date as he explained what he did on his course and what he liked to do in his free time. But his heart wasn’t in it. His mind kept wandering back to Fíli, wondering what he was doing. Did Fíli look happy? It was hard to tell. He was reserved, more so than he normally was, but he was playing tonight. That was a big thing. It had kind of been a part of what ended them… not the cause, but when Fíli had quit his music it had been a sign that all was not well. If he’s playing again… what had caused it? When? Was it something or someone? These questions went round and round in Kíli’s mind and he tried so hard to ignore them and thought he’d been doing a good job of it until he realised he was nodding to something and Lindir was looking at him imploringly and he had absolutely no idea what Lindir had just said.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Is everything ok?” Lindir asked. “You seem… off.”

“Off?” Kíli tried to smile. He downed the last of his pint. “No I’m fine; I just need a toilet break back in a second.” Before Lindir could reply, Kíli jumped to his feet and retreated to the bathroom. Seeking solace in the smell of stale urine and toilet bleach.

It was relatively quiet in here; the noise from the bar just a background thrum and Kíli found that he could hear his own thoughts now. Not that that was necessarily a good thing considering the fact that it had been Fíli on his mind all night.

He hadn’t actually needed the bathroom, not really, but seeing as he was already there, he relieved himself then took his time washing his hands. He splashed cold water on his face and examined himself in the mirror, exhaling wearily.

“Pull it together,” he muttered to himself. It was getting ridiculous. He was acting obsessed.

Of course, as seemed to be the theme for his evening, luck was not on his side and Fíli had the worst timing in the world as at that moment, he stepped into the bathroom.

Fíli froze when he saw Kíli. Kíli didn’t turn around; he watched Fíli’s reflection in the mirror as he hovered by the door as if trying to decide whether it would be worth just turning around and walking right back out again.

Eventually, Fíli seemed to decide against it and he stepped towards Kíli, eyes meeting with Kíli’s reflection. Kíli turned around, leaning back against the sink and careful to avoid the damp patches.

“Fancy bumping into you here,” he said with a wry tone.

“I guess our bladders are synced,” Fíli joked weakly, then his smile dropped. “This is weird,” he confirmed.

“It’s not weird,” Kíli said even though it was weird. “What’s weird?”

“This. Us. You being here on a date and me… should I just go?”

“No!” Kíli said forcefully, perhaps a little too forcefully as Fíli looked startled. “You’re here to play.” He hesitated and then asked in a small voice, “should I go?”

“No you should stay, if you want to.” Fíli sighed. He dragged a hand through his hair, only succeeding in pulling a messy tendril out from the bun. “We shouldn’t be like… running out of bars to avoid each other. It’s not like we hate each other. We don’t hate each other, do we?” He looked at Kíli, tentative and almost afraid.

“I don’t hate you,” Kíli said, his voice gruff.

“I don’t hate you either.”

“So it’s agreed. We both stay.”

“Agreed.” Fíli said quietly, smiling.

They stood there for a moment in the middle of the bathroom just staring at each other. Then they both tried to speak at once.

“Hey I was wondering…” Fíli said at the same time as Kíli said “I should get back.”

“What?” they both said together.

Fíli gave an uncomfortable laugh. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

“No wait, what did you want to say?”

Fíli shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, never mind.”

Kíli lingered. He really, really wanted to know what Fíli had been about to say, he felt like it was something important and he cursed himself for not waiting. But it seemed the moment had passed and Fíli was already walking to the urinals.

Deciding it would be creepy sticking around and watching him pee, Kíli had no choice but to leave.

 

* * *

 

At around ten the open mic night started. The first few acts were fairly lacklustre, some guy trying (and failing) to play the banjo and a girl on the piano who sang like how you’d imagine a marshmallow to sound… sugary and sweet to the point of being slightly sickly.

Bofur and Bilbo, who were both ridiculously drunk by now and in their element with their ‘not date’ were causing a small ruckus at their table. Bofur had almost gotten them kicked already  when he grabbed a bouncer and asked him to marry the two of them. Kíli and Lindir sat together in near silence. Kíli just couldn’t think of anything to say, his mind was drawing a total blank. Lindir drew little patterns in the fog of his glass and Kíli watched him, feeling intensely guilty whilst at the same time extremely resentful at Bofur for strong-arming him into this.

And then it was Fíli’s turn to play.

Kíli watched as Fíli stepped up onto the stage. He perched on a stool by the microphone, guitar strapped around his neck and resting on his knee. He didn’t look up, didn’t address the audience, that wasn’t his style. He just started strumming and started to sing.

And everyone listened.

That was the thing with Fíli, there was a quality to his voice, a rawness that you just couldn’t ignore. It hurt to hear, but also you found yourself needing it. He drew you in like he wasn’t even trying.

The songs were familiar to Kíli and that hole in his chest grew larger. Fíli’s voice clawed in there and dug up all of those painful feelings he’d buried down and brought them to the surface. His voice buried into that hole like it was his home. And it was, it always had been, that wasn’t going to change.

Kíli watched Fíli with wide eyes, a lump growing in his throat that made it difficult to swallow.

He missed Fíli. He couldn’t deny it now, he missed Fíli like he was missing a part of himself and he realised just how badly he’d been hobbling along these past few months without him.

These weren’t things he wanted to be feeling. He scrubbed angrily at his face and looked around for his pint, realising with annoyance that he had finished it already. He found Lindir watching him with concern.

“Are you ok?” Lindir asked.

“Yeah.” Kíli shook his head, annoyed at himself. “You want another?”

Lindir shook his head. “Maybe you should get some water.”

“I’m fine,” Kíli snapped and then sighed. “Sorry,” he said. It was all beginning to feel a little too much. Lindir’s concern, Fíli on stage singing Bob Dylan like he was bleeding his heart out. It was too much.

He looked to the stage and froze when he found Fíli looking right at him. Their eyes met and for a moment Kíli couldn’t do anything but stare. Then Fíli looked down to the ground and the moment was broken.

Kíli pushed away from the table and headed for the bar; ignoring the fact that he could feel Lindir’s eyes on him the whole way.

As he made his order, he glanced over when he heard Fíli clear his throat and start to talk into the mic, which was weird because Fíli never liked to speak when he sang, he hated introductions, he thought they were tacky and awkward.

“Um hi,” Fili murmured. “This next song, I haven’t… played it in a long while so I might be a little rusty. You should probably recognise it though,” he gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Hopefully.”

He went quiet and then he started to play. By the first few notes, Kíli felt sick. He knew this song. He knew the memory that came with it. Him lying naked on Fíli’s bed, a thin sheet twisted around his hips. Fíli sat on a chair by the bed, feet resting on the mattress near Kíli’s head, guitar resting on his lap. He’d been idly plucking the strings as they’d chattered on about nothing important, Sunday morning talk, easy and light. When they’d lapsed into silence Fíli started playing this song. Kíli had groaned at first, chucked a pillow at Fíli and Fíli laughed and ducked to avoid it and carried on playing.

By the time Fíli made it to the first chorus of Teenage Dream Kíli had fallen quiet. He’d never been a fan of Katy Perry but hearing the words in Fíli’s soft, lilting voice, there was something melancholic to them, something beautiful. Kíli had lain there, watching Fíli as he sang, as the lazy morning light shone through the window and played over Fíli’s hair that hung like a curtain over his eyes. That had been the moment, right there. That had been the moment when Kíli had known, and told Fíli, that he loved him.

Kíli’s eyes stung as he watched Fíli on the stage. Something hot and angry churned inside him. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that Fíli would pull something so low as this. Fíli knew what he was doing; he knew the significance of this song, he knew what it would do to Kíli.

Kíli didn’t even wait for the song to end. Ignoring his pint, he pushed his way through the crowds and out of the bar, not stopping until he was outside in the frigid air of the courtyard.

There was a group of social smokers gathered around a heating lamp but Kíli ignored them, instead walking to the other side of the courtyard, just focusing on the cold air and the stars in the sky. The bar had started to feel suffocating to him and he needed to remind himself of the open space just so he could breathe again. He stood there, hands wrapped around himself and watching his breath fog up in front of him.

The music inside grew louder for a moment as someone opened the door and Kíli heard footsteps approaching him. He turned around expecting to see Bofur there, but instead he saw Lindir.

Kíli’s heart sank as guilt ate away at him.

“I’m sorry I just had to get out of there for a while.”

Lindir shrugged. They stood beside a topiary bush shaped like a globe and Lindir picked at one of the branches, plucking leaves and scattering them on the ground.

“If I asked if you had something going on with that guy on stage would I be crazy?”

“He’s my ex,” Kíli sighed. He was suddenly desperate for a cigarette but he’d left his pack on the table inside.

“Oh,” Lindir said. “Suddenly makes a lot more sense now. You’re not over him?”

“I broke up with him,” Kíli said like that explained everything, when really it didn’t, because he wasn’t over Fíli.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Kíli sighed again. “I’m sorry Lindir,” he said. “You seem like a good guy.”

“I am,” Lindir said with the barest hint of a smile. “I’m an amazing guy and I deserve more than just being someone’s rebound.”

Kíli winced. “I’m sorry,” he said again but Lindir shook his head.

“Don’t be, I know that you were never really into this. It’s a shame, you’re kind of cute.” His smile grew wider and Kíli realised he was teasing him.

“Thanks for being cool about this. I know I’m kind of a dick, but… thanks.”

Lindir nodded and then raised his eyebrows. “So I’m gonna go, I think,” he said. “Will you tell Bofur and Bilbo I said bye?”

“Will do…” Kíli hesitated. “Are you sure you want to go? You can stick around if you want.”

Lindir laughed and shook his head. “I’m good,” he said. “Maybe some other time.” He looked at Kíli curiously, his head tilting. “So I don’t know what happened with you and that guy… or what’s going on now. But maybe you should, I don’t know, talk to him. You both still seem pretty hung up on each other.”

Kíli didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t that simple, but explaining that to Lindir would mean explaining everything which would take too long. And he wasn’t about to start seeking relationship advice from a guy he’d essentially just ditched in the middle of their date. So instead he just smiled tightly and nodded.

Lindir vaulted over the barrier to the courtyard and Kíli watched him walk off down the street. He let his head fall back and stared up at the night sky. He could hear the music coming from the bar faintly, Fíli’s slot must have finished because now there was some guy attempting to sing like Tom Waits.

Kíli didn’t particularly want to go back inside. But he knew he was going to have to face the music eventually, in more ways than one.

 

* * *

 

Only when he got there, the music was gone.

“Where’s Fíli gone?” he asked, looking over to the empty table in the corner. He glanced around the bar trying to catch him or Ori in the crowd but it was no good, he couldn’t see the tell-tale flash of yellow hair anywhere.

Bofur and Bilbo looked up at him blearily. Bofur gave a sloppy shrug and Bilbo snorted into his pint, spraying white foam all over the tip of his nose.

“I guess they left,” Bofur said.

_Shit,_ Kíli thought. “When?”

“Not a clue,” Bofur said. “Didn’t know we were supposed to be watching him.” He looked around in sudden surprise. “Hey where’s Lindir?

“I’ve gotta go,” Kíli said snatching up his phone and cigarettes from the table. Bofur made to grab his arm but missed and toppled into Bilbo who yelped and burped and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Not a chance,” said Bofur, struggling to right himself. “I know where you’re going and as your friend I’m… Fuck.” He looked at Bilbo. “The fuck is that word?”

“Instigation?”

“We’re investigating you Kíli. We’re cutting you off. No more Fíli tonight, you’re banned.”

Kíli eyed Bofur shrewdly. “Go home,” he said. “Both of you get a cab you’re drunk.”

“Fuck off you’re not our mum!” Bofur called after him as he left.

“Don’t go see Fíli!” Bilbo shouted, nose still white with foam.

Kíli ignored the both of them.

 

* * *

 

Kíli was angry. As he walked the familiar route to Fíli’s house, he rehearsed what he was going to say to him in his mind.

The song was out of order, and then to just leave right after, without even trying to find Kíli. If Fíli thought he was going to get away with that he had another thing coming.

He found Fíli in the small playing green outside of his house. He was sitting on a swing, back to the road and swinging himself backwards and forwards slowly. His guitar case lay next to him in the grass. It was a lonely, melancholic sight, but Kíli was too angry and too drunk to appreciate that. He marched across the grass and planted both hands firmly on Fíli’s back, giving him a rough shove.

He must have pushed harder than intended, because Fíli toppled forwards with a startled cry and landed face first in the wood chippings surrounding the swing.

“Oh fuck,” Kíli said, pulling Fíli to his feet. “Shit, sorry.” He tried to help dust mud and bark from Fíli’s hands and knees then stepped back when Fíli shot him an angry glare.

“What the hell, Ki?”

Kíli shrugged, he felt bad, he hadn’t meant to push Fíli into the mud, but he also still felt angry. “What the hell did you think you were playing at with that song?” he demanded.

Still brushing mud off, Fíli flicked a splinter of wood from his cheek fuzz. “What song?”

“You know what song I mean. _That_ song!”

“It’s just a song Kíli.”

“Bullshit it’s just a song! You knew what you were doing when you played it, what the hell?”

Fíli sighed. “Alright fine,” he said finally. So Kíli had been right. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this, on some level it made him feel validated, on another level it only made him more angry. “I’m sorry, ok? It just hurt seeing you with that guy.”

“You think it’s easy for me to see you?”

Fíli shot him a look. “You’re the one that broke up with me, remember.”

“That doesn’t make it easier, you gave me no choice!”

And there it was. Fíli looked down to the ground guiltily; he didn’t say anything because he knew Kíli was right, they both knew it. Their relationship had been floundering for a long while before it ended; they’d been clinging on by one final frayed knot. In the end it didn’t matter who had been the one to sever that last knot. It had taken two to fuck it all up.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Kíli said then, feeling sullen. “The date ditched me.”

“Oh.” Fíli at least had the grace to look shamefaced. “Sorry.”

“It wasn’t going to work out, I wasn’t feeling it.” Kíli sat down in the swing Fíli had been sitting in. He wrapped his fingers around the chains and began to swing gently back and forth. After a pause, Fíli joined him, sitting in the swing next to him. They sat there in silence for a long while, swinging gently in unison with each other, listening to the quiet squeak and groan of the metal hinges.

“I miss you,” Kíli confessed, breaking the quiet.

“I miss you too.”

“I never wanted to leave; I just… couldn’t see any other way.”

“I know,” Fíli said with a bone weary sigh. “I didn’t… I wasn’t good back then. I wasn’t a nice person to be around.”

“Don’t say that.” Kíli looked over at Fíli; he stopped swinging, waiting until Fíli was staring back at him. “You weren’t a bad person. I just felt like I was doing more harm than good, all we did was fight and hurt each other.”

Fíli nodded silently in agreement. Neither said anything, but they were both remembering the bitter fights, the endless nights of screaming that ended with the both of them crying alone, the wretched heart ache and the soul destroying regret… They’d been tearing each other apart through trying to love each other.

“I’m doing better now,” Fíli said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I’ve got a job now. I didn’t go back to uni. I just couldn’t get into that again, you know. With my uncle…”

“I know.” Kíli nodded gently. If Kíli wanted to be petty, it would be Thorin, Fíli’s Uncle, that he would blame for everything. He was the one who had loaded all that pressure on Fíli.

Fíli was the kind of guy who carried responsibility like it was a part of him. He used to remind Kíli of a fragile Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. Only the world kept growing as his Uncle piled more and more into it and Fíli’s spine was breaking from the strain.

It had hurt to watch. Knowing he couldn’t do anything but wait for Fíli to finally snap.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” Kíli said and he meant it. He felt guilty about it, he felt so guilty for abandoning Fíli, for not being strong enough.

“No, hey no, don’t be sorry!” Fíli slammed his foot down and stopped swinging immediately. He twisted around so he was facing Kíli and then grabbed the chains of Kíli’s swing and pulled him closer. “You were there for me. You did the right thing leaving when you did. I wasn’t good and I wasn’t facing up to it. If you stuck around I was only going to drag you down with me.”

“Even still…” Kíli didn’t feel convinced. He could still see Fíli’s face on that final day when he’d walked out for the final time. Tearstained and ashen, he’d looked utterly broken. His Uncle had already cracked him, but it was Kíli who made the final blow that shattered him.

“When you left it was like a wakeup call for me,” Fíli said. “I mean I’m not gonna’ lie I hated you for a while, but then I got over it.”

As they sat there staring at each other, it felt like they should kiss. That was how this kind of thing went, wasn’t it? That was what this had all been leading up to. Hadn’t it?

“I’m glad you’re playing music again,” Kíli said, putting everything he couldn’t say into that sentence. He hoped Fíli understood. Fíli smiled at him and it was clear that he did.

“Thanks,” he said, nudging Kíli’s swing with his own and Kíli let go of Fíli’s chain.

In an ideal world they would have kissed. But this wasn’t an ideal world, it wasn’t that easy. They weren’t there yet. But maybe they could be there. Looking at Fíli, he looked good. There was contentment in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a long while. He seemed happy, stronger. When Kíli looked at him he didn’t feel like he was just waiting for the day when Fíli would break.

Oh, he was damaged, Kíli was too. But they’d both gotten better. Their old life was gone to them now; it would be wrong going back.

But there was something hopeful about tonight and Kíli thought that maybe; just maybe they could start going forwards to something new.

Don’t ever look back; they didn’t need to.


End file.
